


Thoughts on a Sorting

by BlueBelleBarrett



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hogwarts House Sorting Ceremony, Nervous Firsties, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBelleBarrett/pseuds/BlueBelleBarrett
Summary: Every student to pass through Hogwarts' halls must be Sorted into one of four Houses, and while we know where they end up, they're not always so sure. Being nervous while you wait for your turn to be Sorted is only natural, right?A series of glimpses into the minds of various characters as they anxiously away their fates and the decision of the Sorting Hat.





	Thoughts on a Sorting

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> This is just a fun little writing exercise, trying to get into the minds of different characters and explore their thoughts as they hurtle towards the most nerve-wracking, fate-determining event of their young and magical lives. And, also, an excuse to write some of my favorite characters. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!  
> Blue

James fidgeted. His mother had told him not to, but what Euphemia Potter didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t help it, besides; there was just so much riding on this very moment that the even the idea of standing still was practically a torture. He rolled up onto the balls of his feet, tugged at the sleeves of his new Hogwarts robes, and hoped that Professor McGonagall would get to the ‘P’ names faster than usual.   
James was sure he would make Gryffindor. At least, he was pretty sure. He had been sure that morning, when he told his father not to worry, that he would definitely be a Gryffindor just like him, and made Fleamont roar with laughter. But now, well. He had seen what happened to Sirius Black not even five minutes ago, and if the heir of one of the darkest and most Slytherin-est of Houses could be put into Gryffindor, what hope was there, really, for the rest of them? James settled back down onto his feet and took a glance around the Great Hall.

It was just as spectacular as his dad had always told him; the floating candles and the night sky for a ceiling were elements that frequently featured in the bedtime stories James had heard as a kid. And now, seeing it for himself, it took some of the pressure of his Sorting worries. 

“GRYFFINDOR!” Ahead of him, at the front of the Hall, that ginger girl, the prissy one from the train, joined the House of Lions. Surprising, though, as he glanced over to the table in red and gold, not as surprising as Sirius being a lion. He huffed and ran a nervous hand through his tousled hair, which really only served to dislodge his hat. 

“Here,” came a whisper from behind him, and he turned to accept his hat from a pale brown-haired boy with a rather large scar on his jaw. The boy smiled at James, and James smiled back. “I’m Remus Lupin,” he whispered. 

“James Potter,” James replied, clearly a little too loudly, as they were shushed by a tall dark-haired girl behind Remus. James turned back around, but not before sticking out his tongue. He sighed again, bouncing up on his toes. He wondered if it would be so bad to be anything but Gryffindor….

No! He couldn’t think like that. His dad would call it defeatist talk, and would definitely disapprove. He was going to be a Gryffindor. He was. 

“Lupin, Remus,” was called not long after, and the boy gave James a little smile as he made his way up to the three-legged stool and his fate for the next seven years. James tried to grin back, but all he really felt was mild nausea. Remus Lupin became a Gryffindor a moment later. 

When James was very little, his father had taken him into his study and shown him a very large book called ‘A Magical Tree: Genealogy through the Centuries’. He had flipped the massive book open to one page in particular, and let James run his chubby fingers over their family tree. His father had explained that they were a family of Gryffindors, mostly, with the occasional Hufflepuff thrown in every few generations. James had wrinkled up his nose at the then-unfamiliar names, but his father had explained about the four Houses and the magical school he would one day attend, just like all of his forefathers. And James had stared at the family tree, even though he didn’t really understand, yet, and told his dad he would be a good Potter, a brave Gryffindor! His father had laughed. 

James did not feel like laughing now. Pettigrew, Peter had just become a Gryffindor, and he knew that he would be up very, very soon. The time for waiting was past. Judgement was upon him. He bounced frantically on his toes and almost ran his hand through his hair again, nearly missing knocking his hat off for the second time. 

“Potter, James,” 

Oh, this was it. He could hardly feel his feet as he made his way up to the stool and his destiny. He was probably going to be sick all over his shoes and then he would definitely be sent home. Oh, Merlin. He sat, as still as he could manage, and the Hat was lowered, and a surprisingly clever voice sounded in his ear.

“So,” the Hat said, “Another Potter. Hmm, and an anxious one at that.”

“Just because I’m nervous now,” James argued, “Doesn’t mean I’m not brave!” The Hat chuckled.

“Of course not, m’boy,” the Hat replied, “You could never be anything other than GRYFFINDOR!”


End file.
